


Future

by teejae



Category: CROSS GENE
Genre: Gen, Please Don't Hate Me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-03 18:38:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5302523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teejae/pseuds/teejae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[PLEASE SEE THE ORIGINAL PAGE ON AFF OR ON THE CROSS GENE INTERNATIONAL FORUM BEFORE PROCEEDING]</p><p>((I haven't figured out how to put pictures into the summary/preface so please see the Foreword that I have posted in those two locations before reading. Thank you!!))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He sighed and took a drag on his cigarette.

“Ugh, that looked nasty,” a low voice came from behind him.

Shin turned to see Sangmin ducking under the strip of yellow CAUTION tape and peeling red-stained gloves off his hands. “At least you’re wearing black,” he watched Sangmin dispose of the gloves in a zip-locked bag labeled BIOHAZARD.

Sangmin patted himself down and adjusted the shiny badge pinned to the front of his uniform, “No one asked you to come dressed in a suit, Mr. Detective.”

Shin snorted a little, “How was I supposed to know that it was gonna be this bad?”

“Really?” Sangmin gave a dubious look, “You’re a detective. For murder cases. What were you expecting?”

He brought the cigarette to his lips, “I was expecting a body, not a bloodbath.”

“Fair enough.”

Shin blew a puff of smoke into his friend’s face, “Anything else, Officer?”

In response, Sangmin’s face crinkled up and he waved the smoke away, “Would you cut that out? I’m going to die of lung cancer before you do if you keep doing that.”

“It’s the third one this month, already,” Shin ignored him and tapped at his cigarette, “What do you think? Is it the same person?”

Sangmin’s eyes followed the cigarette ashes to the ground before answering, “You know, I almost hope it’s just one person,” he absentmindedly fiddled at the keys hanging from his belt, “That way, there’s only one psychopath running around.”

Another sigh, “You know that’s not what the evidence is pointing to.”

“I know."


	2. Chapter 2

“Did you have fun yesterday?”

Takuya made a sour face but said nothing as he proceeded to shed his jacket.

“No?” Yongseok gestured at the television, “They make it sound like you had fun."

 

_Investigators say, it appears that the body was cut in multiple places and the victim was then left to bleed to death._

 

“It went too fast,” Takuya sank into the couch next to Yongseok, who quickly un-sprawled himself across the cushions to make room.

“Well, you know what they say,” Yongseok glanced over, “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

Takuya snorted and ran a hand through his dark hair, “Not even fifteen minutes,” he grumbled.

“Not even fifteen?” Yongseok looked at him for a minute before turning his attention back to the television, “Got carried away, didn’t you?”

 

_Autopsy results say it took the victim over ten minutes to die after all the cuts were made._

 

Takuya shrugged, eyes glued to the TV screen.

“Oh well… you’ll get your chance again,” the younger man yawned and rubbed at the back of his neck, “It’s my turn now.”

Now, Takuya turned, “Do you have something planned?”

“Of course I do,” Yongseok gave him a disdained look and clutched at his heart in distress, “I’m hurt. What kind of a person do you take me for? You know we’ve been planning for this since--”

He rolled his eyes, “I know, I know.”

Yongseok crossed his arms, “Besides, we need to get it set up before the police start catching on.”

“Ugh, the police,” Takuya leaned his head against the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling.

“‘Ugh, the police,’ is right,” Yongseok agreed, “and we’re even doing them a favor here.”

Both of them turned at the sound of a rasping key as the door to their apartment unlocked.

“Right on time,” Yongseok called out as Seyoung spilled in through the doorway and began pulling his blazer off.

“I’m always on time,” he answered, tousling at his slickly combed blonde hair until it fell normally.

 

_Police are in the process of performing a thorough investigation._

 

“They found it already?” Seyoung’s eyebrows rose fractionally and he approached where the other two were sitting, watching the news.

“That was part of my plan,” Takuya responded tersely.

Yongseok elbowed him in the side, “Like hell it was.”

He scowled at Yongseok, rubbing at his ribs, “How was I supposed to know anyone heard the screaming?”

“You need to finish it before they scream,” Casper emerged from the hallway behind them, shirtless and vigorously drying his hair with a towel.

Takuya squeezed his eyes shut and gave an exasperated groan.

 

_There has been no conclusive evidence found as of yet._

 

“Had too much fun again, huh?” Seyoung leaned over the back of the couch and poked Takuya’s face.

He swatted his friend’s hand away and looked up at the older man, pouting a little, “It’s more fun when they scream.”

 

_A reward is of $100,000 is being offered for any information regarding the culprit._

 

Yongseok leaned back and stretched, “Man, imagine having that much money. $100,000? Just for a hint? I say we give it to them just to get the $100,000.”

Seyoung chuckled slightly and straightened up, “What would you tell them?” he loosened his tie and began walking towards the hallway that Casper had come out of, “Watch out for tall, attractive men?”

“That _would_ be fun, wouldn’t it?” the youngest nodded slowly, thinking it over, “It’ll be like a golden apple… it would be an insult if you weren’t considered a suspect.”

“That’s one golden apple I’d be happy without,” Casper interjected, a sullen look on his face.

Yongseok gave Casper a look, “Well, you’re no fun.”

“Yongseok,” Takuya spoke suddenly.

“Eh?”

“You said you had something planned,” Takuya raised an eyebrow.

Casper came over and squeezed on to the couch on Yongseok’s other side, “You have something planned?”

Yongseok shushed them, “It’s a secret, guys. A secret. You know what a secret is.”

Takuya jostled the younger man, “Not even a hint?”

“Do you have $100,000?” Yongseok shot back.

Takuya and Casper exchanged a look.

“You’ll see,” Yongseok leaned back on the couch and smirked, “I promise you’ll like it.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Shin stared across at his friend, cigarette forgotten in the ashtray on the table between them. Sangmin had his dark, thick eyebrows wrinkled, gaze darting around between the two papers he held in his hands to the two on the table. There had been such drastic changes from the boys they had been to the men they were now… They weren’t kidding when they said--

“This looks brutal.”

Shin snapped back to present day to see Sangmin, putting the papers back on the table and tapping the one he had stacked on top. Shin made a noise of disgust, “You should have seen it yourself.”

He leaned against an arm of the metal chair, “If I hadn’t been scheduled for active patrol duty when they found the body, I would’ve come.”

“Well, you can read my copy of the reports all you want,”Shin shrugged and shook his head, “The pictures don’t do it justice. You had to see it for yourself.”

“I believe you…” Sangmin rubbed a hand over his face before adopting a humorous gleam in his eyes, “Did you at least remember to wear something dark this time?”

Shin said nothing but pursed his lips and stared hard at the papers.

“Really?” he snorted, “It’s the fourth one in a row and you still forgot?”

“It was a last minute emergency call,” Shin answered testily.

“Gotta be prepared, like me,” Sangmin grinned, “I’m always prepared.”

“ _That_ ,” Shin gestured at his friend’s attire, “is not called ‘being prepared.’ _That_ is called a uniform.”

He chuckled and began straightening the papers, “You’re the one who decided you wanted to be a detective.”

“Oh, be quiet,” he picked up his cigarette only to find that it had all but burnt out and jammed it into the ashtray, “We both know you decided to be a police officer for the uniform,” Shin pulled another cigarette out of the box he had lying on the table, “Besides, what do you want me to do? Get a pipe? Deerstalker hat? Magnifying glass? All of the above?”

“And a trench coat,” Sangmin pulled a distasteful expression at the ashtray.

Shin paused while patting himself down, looking for a lighter, “I… I have a trench coat actually.”

“Really?” he blinked a few times, “I’ve never seen you wear it even once the past three years.”

“Maybe I don’t like the idea of looking like a mafia mob boss,” Shin retorted.

“At least you let your hair grow back into a normal color.”

“There you are!” he triumphantly pulled a lighter out, “Of course I grew my hair out. Can you imagine trying to find a job as a detective with blonde hair?”

“True…” Sangmin began preemptively waving the not-yet-existent smoke away, “Speaking of mafia mob bosses, Hwansung has been complaining about a new gang that’s popped up.”

“Hwansung? You mean Sergeant Do?” Shin raised an eyebrow and paused in the middle of lighting his cigarette.

“Who else?”

He looked at Sangmin for a second before choosing to ignore him, “Really? Another one? What’s up with all the gangs lately?”

“No idea,” Sangmin coughed excessively and motioned at Shin to switch seats so he wouldn’t be downwind from the smoke. “You think it has anything to do with all of… this?” he gestured at the papers on the table, still dramatically hacking up a lung.

Shin gave his friend a disdained look before answering, “Unlikely. None of the victims have had any gang connections and the killings are, like you said, ridiculously premeditated.”

“He said they’re nothing to worry about,” Sangmin settled in his new seat and slid the ashtray over, “Besides, they call themselves Jinchuu…”

Shin almost choked on his cigarette, “Jin… chuu?”

Sangmin gave him an ‘I-told-you-so’ look, “Yup.”

“Well, first of all, they named themselves,” he took the hint and set the cigarette down on the ashtray, “Second of all… Jinchuu…” There was something oddly familiar about the name that he couldn’t quite place, “Where have I heard that before…”

“Anime maybe?” Sangmin rubbed at his bottom lip, “You used to watch a lot of anime, didn’t you?”

Shin pursed his lips, “There’s a lot of things I used to do… planned to do...” After a moment, he leaned back and sighed, “I’m sure you did too.”

“Fair enough.”

The two of them sat in silence until Sangmin spoke up again, “Anyways, Hwansung said that we’re lucky we even got the name before another gang got to them.”

“Sounds like it,” he snorted.

Sangmin chewed at his lip before catching Shin’s attention and motioning him to lean closer. In a low voice, he asked, “By the way, did you manage to get the file?”

Shiin looked momentarily confused before understanding, “The… oh… kind of.”

“Kind of?” he raised one dark eyebrow.

“I couldn’t get my hands on the actual case file yet,” Shin shook his head and stared at the table, “It’s still ‘under review’ and ‘undergoing investigation.’”

“Bullshit,” Sangmin muttered under his breath.

“Exactly.” He hesitated a moment before picking up his bag and pulling a large manila envelope out, “I _did_ manage to get this though.” Shin handed it over to his friend who took it with a confused expression.

“What--” Sangmin’s furrowed brows shot upwards as he pulled the papers out, “Wait, this is _his_ file… why do they have a file on him?”

Shin tapped at his cigarette and picked it up again, “Beats me. Read it.”

“What about you?” he glanced up momentarily from the stack of papers.

“I’ve already read through it… twice,” Shin blew a puff of air skyward, “There really isn’t anything in there.”

“International student… studying Biophysics at university… 22 years old at time of death.” Sangmin shuffled all the loose sheets back into the envelope, “You’re right, nothing we don’t already know.” He set it down on the table and started rubbing at his bottom lip again, “But why would they have a file on him?”

“That’s what I’m wondering,” Shin gestured vaguely in the air, cigarette leaving wisps of smoke as he moved his hand.

He gave Shin a serious look across the table, “Are you sure this is his complete file?” he asked quietly.

Shin took another drag from his cigarette, took the time to feel how the smoke rasped its way down his throat into his lungs, mulled it over in his mouth before releasing it. “No. I can’t guarantee that’s his complete file,” he answered honestly, “I don’t have enough security clearance yet to check so, that’s all I got.”

“Well then,” Sangmin gave a humorless chuckle, “Time to work on getting those promotions, eh?”

“Shut up.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

_He remembered what those articles and pamphlets always said about how to act when apprehended by police officers. Stay calm. Be reasonable. Don’t go into hysterics. You’re innocent. It’ll be okay. DON’T panic. You’re INNOCENT. IT’LL BE OKAY._

* * *

_“Prisoner No. 020000.”_

It’s Seyoung. _He grew increasingly more and more annoyed every time they called his number. Was it really so hard to call him by name? He did have a name. Seyoung._

_020000_

_Too many zeroes. Zero. Two. Zero. Zero. Zero. Zero._

_Would it kill them to just say twenty thousand at least? But no. Zero. Two. Zero. Zero. Zero. Zero._

_The number was stitched into the awful, itchy orange jumpsuit, stamped on all of his belongings._

_“Prisoner No. 020000,” the guard said again, more harshly. Then, unsatisfied with Seyoung’s reluctance, grabbed him roughly by the collar and threw him into the cell._

_Surprised by the sudden action, he cried out automatically, “Watch it!”_

_“Watch what?” the guard spat at him, “Watch yourself, murderer.”_

_Zero. Two. Zero. Zero. Zero. Zero. He whirled around and stared at the guard, “What are you talking about?”_

_“You know what you did,” the guard looked disgusted._

_“What do you mean ‘what I did’?” Seyoung was genuinely confused. The police had told him nothing when they had taken him away. “I didn’t do anything.”_

_His lips twisted, “Tell that to his family, scum.”_

_“Whose family?”_

_The guard stared at him for a deafening moment, “Seriously? First you kill the guy and now you don’t even have the decency to remember him? You really are a pathetic piece of shit.”_

_“WHAT?” his voice echoed down the stone hallway, ricocheted around in his cell and rang in his own ears along with calls of protest from the other prisoners, “I’d never kill anyone!”_

_“Yeah, yeah. That’s what they all say,” the man outside the bars waved him off._

_He felt his throat go dry and he swallowed a few times, “I… I-- I have to go to school.” The palms of his hands felt clammy. “I’m going to medical school next year. I’d never--”_

_“Well that’s new,” the guard put an expression of mock surprise before the disgust set in again, “A doctor? You twisted fuck.”_

_“DAMN IT ALL, I HAVE A NAME,” he shouted after the guard who had turned and was disappearing down the long, gloomy hallway._

_020000_

* * *

My name is Seyoung.

_Prisoner No. 020000_

_Seyoung._

_He had a name._

_It was Seyoung._

_Seyoung. Seyoung. Seyoung._

_“What’s the matter?” the guard was laughing at him through the bars, “Aren’t you innocent?”_

Seyoung. My name is Seyoung.

_“Tired of coming up with lies?”_

_Seyoung. Seyoung. Seyoung._

_He ignored the guard._

My name is Seyoung.

_“Playing dumb?”_

_Zero. Two. Zero. Zero. Zero. Zero._

_“That’s cute.”_

_SEYOUNG._

_“They’ll prove you guilty.”_

_Zero. Two. Zero. Zero. Zero. Zero. ZERO._

_“See how much you’ll talk then, pretty-boy.”_

_Seyoung. Seyoung. Seyoung._

_Zero. Zero. Zero. Zero. Zero. Zero._

_The guard was gone now, laughing to himself down the hallway like he always did._

_SEYOUNG. SEYOUNG. SEYOUNG._

_Zero. Zero. Zero._

_Zero. Two. Zero. Zero. Zero. Zero._

* * *

_Innocent._

_Guilty._

_INNOCENT._

_Guilty._

_What did it matter anymore?_

_“--not there at the time--”_

_Innocent._

_“--security camera footage--”_

_Guilty._

_“--ABSOLUTELY NO ACQUAINTANCE--”_

_Innocent._

_“--facial recognition experts--”_

_GUILTY._

_“--good kid--would never--”_

_Innocent_

_“--the perfect crime--”_

_Guilty._

_“--set for life--medical school--good grades--”_

_Innocent… ?_

_“--clearly too much pressure--”_

_Guilty._

_“--clean records--no previous crimes--no violent behavior--”_

_Innocent?_

_“--competitive school--”_

_Guilty._

_..._

_innocent?_

_The pamphlets never said what to do if they found you guilty._

* * *

_“Didn’t I say so?”_

_He glanced at the guard but said nothing._

* * *

_He found himself being held up off the ground by the collar of his jumpsuit, the other man’s fists clenched around the rough fabric, wrinkling up the numbers. Zero. Two. Zero. Zero. Zero. Zero._

_“YOU--” the other man roared, face scrunched up in grief? anger?_

_He stared back silently._

_“MURDERER,” his new cellmate dropped him and collapsed on the ground with a scream of anguish._

_He straightened his jumpsuit and smoothed the cloth over the numbers. Prisoner No. 020000._

_The other man was crumpled into a heap on the ground._

_Wordlessly, he pulled the blanket off his cot and tossed it around the man’s shoulders._

_“You didn’t kill anyone did you,” a voice managed to croak, raw from screaming._

_Still, he said nothing but sat down on the ground beside his new cellmate and fingered at the numbers printed on the corner of the thin blanket. 020000_

_“They think I killed him. Why would I kill him? I didn’t-- I haven’t--” a sob wracked through the man’s body._

_A few moments passed, “It looks like I’m stuck here with you for now… What’s your name?”_

_“Zero.”_


	5. Chapter 5

“Today’s the day!”

Takuya groaned and rolled over, pulling a pillow over his head.

“Takku! Takku!”

Curses be that, on top of taking it on himself to wake _everyone up bright and early every single day_ , Yongseok had to have the loudest voice out of all of them.

“Tak-kun~!”

He regretted (as he did every morning) teaching Yongseok what his younger sisters back in Japan had called him.

“Takuyaaaaaa~”

Slowly, he peeked out from under the pillow. Well that was odd. The shouting (Yongseok called it singing) was receding into the kitchen… without entering his room and blasting his eardrums out? Honestly, Takuya was surprised that the neighbors hadn’t complained yet. Maybe they had but Yongseok had… ? Nah. One of the other two? Now _that_ was a possibility. But at the same time, they had other things to focus on… like--

His thoughts were cut short when his comforter was unceremoniously yanked off his body. Takuya sat bolt upright and flung his pillow in the direction of the perpetrator, “WHAT… was… that….”

Seyoung stood over him with an unreadable expression, pillow in one hand, blanket in the other, “You were saying?”

It didn’t matter how long he had been around the older man, there was something about Seyoung that never failed to unnerve him. “I just-- Couldn’t you--”

He slowly raised one finely-arched eyebrow.

Takuya realized he probably looked a bit like a fish and clamped his mouth shut, instead staring back with wide eyes.

“Listen to him,” Seyoung gave a small smile before depositing both Takuya’s pillow and Takuya’s blanket back on Takuya’s bed and leaving the room.

He stared at the empty space where Seyoung had been standing and blinked a few times. It was inferred that “him” was Yongseok since there were only four of them here and Takuya would “listen to him” because obviously “he” had something important to say and it was important enough that Seyoung himself would come in to specifically tell him to “listen to him” and obviously since “today is the day,” the only thing that important was--

Takuya shook his head a little. Seyoung didn’t always speak in riddles. Only sometimes. But when he did, it was always odd, trying to interpret his words. Takuya supposed that Casper was probably the most accustomed to it… The hypnotic, velvety sound of Seyoung’s low voice combined with cryptic, strange sentences made Takuya feel like he completely understood what the other man was talking about during the conversation (if it could be called that). As soon as he was left to his own devices, Takuya (or anyone else) was left feeling slightly at a loss and in some sort of doubt that _was that really what he was trying to say?_

Yongseok’s voice came floating in, “Today is the day~!”

* * *

_ Two year anniversary. _

She turned in the mirror to check her outfit one last time. Today was going to be perfect. Her boyfriend had said they were going to spend the entire day together for their two year anniversary.

It was so rare to find someone that both her parents approved of, but he was tall, handsome, had a good sense of humor, went to a prestigious university… what was there not to like?

* * *

Takuya grumbled, “Really?”

Yongseok nodded adamantly, “Of course. You know I know what I’m talking about.”

“If you say so,” Casper sounded dubious but resigned.

“Don’t think too much about it. Just trust me,” Yongsok said cheerily. “I wish I could come with you guys but I just had my turn,” he pouted a little, “Oh well, make sure you have fun~”

* * *

It was supposed to be a perfect day.

And it had been.

Until she and Changjoon were kidnapped.

She didn’t remember much about it. Arms that seemed to be made of stone pinning her arms to her sides. Her legs kicked out from under her. The bag that was still over her head. Changjoon’s obvious sounds of struggling and calling out for her until she heard the solid thwack of him being knocked out.

She felt the bite of ropes into her wrists and ankles. Where was she? “My father doesn’t care, you know,” she found herself blurting out.

In the silence, she felt someone watching her.

“He won’t pay the ransom. He doesn’t care.”

A serpentine voice sounded far closer than she expected, “This one knows he doesn’t care. But we knew that already, didn’t we?”

An empty warehouse maybe? If it weren’t for the hairs standing up on the back of her neck, she would have laughed at the cliche.

“At least let Changjoon go.”

The voice came again, “So she _knows_ ,” it crowed. “She _knows_ we have her pretty boy,” a slight giggle, “Oh how lucky we are today. A pretty girl _and_ a pretty boy.”

Beside her, she heard a gasp and then Changjoon’s smooth voice, “Hyunmi? Are you there? What did you do to her? Where is she?”

“I’m right here,” a wave a relief washed over her.

“Are you okay? Did they do anything to you?” there was a slight tremor in his voice. He was worried. Of course he was. “Aw fuck. My head hurts like a bitch.”

“I’m fine,” she winced in sympathy, “I think I heard them knock you out.”

“Figures,” she heard him mumble.

A slight rustle, and then, “Ah, so _both_ pretties are awake.” The voice sounded delighted.

Another, rougher voice came, “What the FUCK ARE YOU GONNA DO TO US.”

She jumped. She hadn’t realized there were other people.

"Oopsie. I forgot we had one not-so-pretty too," a slender hand clamped hard around her wrist and placed something into her hands, “Can pretty tell him what this is?”

There was a flat side and a point. “A brass thumbtack,” she answered, apprehensively.

“Good, good!”

She heard footsteps over to the direction where the rougher voice had come from.

“You heard what pretty said? It’s pointy-pointy.”

“Ow!” she heard the man shout.

“We told you it’s pointy-pointy. We have many pointy-pointies. So what would happen if we--”

The sound of innumerable thumbtacks hitting the hard ground all around them echoed through the room.

“And now, you may leave,” the voice cackled, “Oh, pretties should see this. It’s funny. It’s funny! We haven’t laughed so much in so very long.”

“You’re sick,” the rougher voice came again, shaking a little.

“Remember, we said you have to move or else we’re going to be sad.”

“You know what? Fuck you.”

The voice sighed, “Don’t say bad things like that. If you do, we’ll be even more sad. Do you know what happens when we’re sad?”

“I don’t give a--”

Wet gurgling. Then nothing.

Something next to her (another chair maybe?) creaked and Changjoon spoke up again, “You’re fucking monsters, you know that? You must be the guys behind those murders.”

A confused silence.

“Changjoon,” she hissed, “I think there’s only one of them.”

“What? But they keep on saying ‘we’.”

“I just--”

The same hand from before grabbed the side of her head and yanked her away from Changjoon. “Pretties shouldn’t have secrets~” the voice sang.

“Get your hand off me, you son-of-a--” Changjoon’s sentence was suddenly cut short, “NO PLEASE DON’T DROP ME. PUT ME BACK PUT THE CHAIR BACK DOWN. PUT IT BACK. DON’T DROP IT OH GOD DON’T DROP IT.”

The voice howled with laughter, “How pretty! Does pretty hear how pretty your pretty boy can scream?”

“What the fuck,” she heard Changjoon whisper.

“Pretty is being very quiet. Does pretty not like it?” the voice danced around her.

“Get me out of here,” he whispered again.

“Pretty boy needs to be louder. We can’t hear him when he’s too quiet.”

“Get. Me. Out,” Changjoon said, louder this time.

A gasp, “Pretty boy doesn’t like this? Why not? He hasn’t heard how pretty pretty girl can scream, that’s why, isn’t it? We can show him how pretty she screams, can’t we? Yes, we’ll show him how pretty she can scream.”

“GET ME OUT OF HERE,” he yelled, “SHE’S THE ONE YOU WANT, RIGHT? WHY DID YOU TAKE ME TOO? JUST TAKE HER AND LET ME GO.”

“Changjoon?” her throat went dry. What was he talking about? Hadn’t he said he would protect her? That he’d always be there? He had been there when someone tried to steal her bag at knifepoint. He had been there when she called him at four in the morning, crying because her parents were fighting again.

“I DON’T CARE ABOUT HER. TAKE HER AND DO WHATEVER WITH HER. JUST LET ME GO.”

* * *

Takuya and Casper looked at each other and then back at the crying girl tied to a chair with a bag over her head in an otherwise empty room.

“Changjoon… why…” she choked.

Takuya moved quietly over to her side and yelled, “SHUT UP. I’M DONE WITH YOU. FIRST THE ROBBER AND NOW THIS. MY FRIENDS WERE RIGHT. YOU’RE NOTHING BUT BAD LUCK.”

* * *

“Changjoon? Where did that come from?” Casper wrinkled his eyebrows.

Takuya shrugged, “One of Yongseok’s sisters’ old boyfriends?” He returned his attention to cutting the plastic card into thin slivers and cutting those slivers into tiny pieces.

“And we went through all that trouble to make you that ID too,” he looked at the bits of plastic almost sadly.

* * *

_Commissioner Lee’s daughter has been reported to police as a missing person._

_The twenty-two-year-old was supposed to be out on a date with her boyfriend, but witnesses say they do not remember seeing her at the location. Commissioner Lee says he realized something was wrong when he was watching the news and saw that the individual who passed away early this morning in the drunk driving accident was none other than his daughter’s boyfriend._

_She was last seen conversing with Choi Sangwon who has been brought in for questioning._

 


	6. Chapter 6

“... we’ll need the security camera footage too.” Sangmin finished listing off all the evidence.

Shin grumbled and resisted the urge to put his head against the wall, “Let’s just focus on getting that file first before we think about anything else.”

“And _you_ need to--” Sangmin glanced over Shin’s shoulder and abruptly changed topics, “--stop drinking so much coffee. I swear, between the smoking and the caffeine--”

Shin gave Sangmin an incredulous look as the other man began rattling off on the health detriments of coffee and cigarettes, “What--”

Sangmin shushed him, “I _know_ it’s just a habit but you gotta kick at least one of them.”

He continued staring at his friend. He had always known that the guy was a little scatter-brained at times but this was pushing it--

“Hey, you two heard?” a new voice chimed in.

Ah, so his friend _hadn’t_ completely lost it. Shin turned around to see… what was his name again? One of the new police cadets? Most likely.

The young man looked up at them, blinked, and took a few steps back to avoid having to crane his neck to make eye contact with the tall detective and his police officer partner, “Commissioner Lee’s daughter’s been kidnapped.”

“Hyunmi’s case?” Shin snorted, “Who _hasn’t_ heard?” They had only issued an amber alert to every private and public device linked to the data networks, made an announcement throughout the headquarters building, and radioed everyone on the force.

“You got any actual news, Gyu?” Sangmin raised an eyebrow.

“I- Well- Wait, you know her?” he looked even more taken aback, if that was possible.

“What do you mean?” Shin resisted the urge to ask his friend how on earth he had known the cadet’s name… Probably because he was on the actual task force? Shin decided that he’d ask later.

Gyu shrugged, “You said her name like you were familiar with her.”

He answered easily, “She was one of my underclassmen back at university.”

“Ah, that’s right. You went to KAIST too before--”

“What is it?” Shin cut him off.

Gyu clamped his mouth shut and stared at the two of them.

“No one ever really talks to us unless there’s something important,” Shin wrinkled his brows slightly, “So what is it?”

“Oh… that…”

Shin took a step closer so Gyu had no choice but to look up at him.

The cadet cleared his throat, “Uh, they wanted me to tell you that um…” he took a deep breath, “They’re taking you two off the murder case.”

“What?” Sangmin, who had been leaning against the wall up to this point straightened up, “Why?”

“Well, Tangyoon has been wanting a promotion right?” Gyu seemed a bit more relaxed when he realized that the two of them weren’t going to kill him outright, “So he managed to uh… ‘convince’ the chief to put him on the case instead.”

Shin slowly raised an eyebrow, “How… ?”

Gyu shuffled his feet a bit and looked away before looking back up, “Y-you don’t want to know… I-it’d be better if I didn’t say.”

“How.” his eyebrows instantly knitted together. Sangmin approached slowly.

“Something about putting murderers on a murder case…” Gyu mumbled, refusing to make eye contact.

Shin closed his eyes and released a long sigh.

“Look,” Gyu was scrambling to save himself from a surefire demise now, “You’ve been switched over to work with Sergeant Do now to keep an eye on the local gangs and stuff, it won’t be too bad.”

After a moment of silence, Sangmin’s low voice came, “You mean like Jinchuu?”

The poor cadet blinked, as if surprised to be alive, “Jinchuu…? Oh!” He managed to recover himself, “From what I’ve heard, Jinchuu is actually a lot more trouble than we thought they’d be.”

Sangmin glanced at his friend, who was pinching the bridge of his nose, before asking, “What do you mean?”

“Well, they’re not a very big gang but their networks and stuff,” Gyu gestured vaguely in the air in motions that Sangmin guessed were supposed to be the ‘networks and stuff’. “They’re ridiculously well done… It’s set up better than some of the bigger, older gangs.”

He wrinkled his eyebrows at the information but said nothing.

Gyu, who had decided that these two were most definitely not going to kill him, continued, “Anyways, Tangyoon says he’s found the murderer already. Kwak Changjoon. Her boyfriend.”

“On what grounds?” Shin had somehow or other recovered himself enough to participate in the conversation.

“Who knows?” Gyu twisted his mouth and shrugged.

Sangmin interjected, “Wasn’t that the name of the guy who was killed in that car accident earlier?”

“Yup…” the cadet nodded.

“So he’s the one who’s been killing all these people?” Shin exchanged a glance with his partner who returned his dubious expression.

Gyu held his hands up, “That’s what Tangyoon says.”

“Uh huh…” Shin was itching for a cigarette, a cup of coffee, _something_ , “And what does Hyunmi’s case have to do with it?”

“He’s saying that the guy killed her and hid her body somewhere,” Gyu continued making gestures for ‘killing her’ and ‘hiding the body.’

“What in the actual--” Sangmin sounded perturbed that there was someone on the force capable of inventing even more hare-brained ideas than he could ever imagine.

“It makes sense the way he says it,” the cadet was attempting to explain now, “See, Changjoon was always a… possessive boyfriend so, he figured out the police were on his tail and decided to kill himself and take her with him.”

“So they’re ruling the car accident as suicide?”

“He ran a red light and got t-boned. Autopsies don’t show any foreign substances in his bloodstream and no skid-marks where he should’ve braked… The other driver braked, but not him.”

* * *

The large stack of papers landed on Shin’s new desk with a solid _thump_. He looked up to see Sergeant Do who patted his shoulder.

“Got some catching up to do,” the older man shook his head sympathetically and was about to walk away before saying, “Sorry about Hyunmi by the way.”

Shin, who had picked up the first packet from the stack, snapped his head up, “Sorry?”

“Wasn’t she your ex-girlfriend?” Sergeant Do asked matter-of-factly, “Or are you forgetting how long I’ve known you?”

“Ah,” he stared into space for a moment and set the packet down. “I don’t--” Shin sighed, “I don’t generally think about the life I had before… I don’t really think about that as part of my life anymore… So, there really isn’t anything to be sorry for.”

Sergeant Do gave the younger man a sad smile before nodding, “Alright.”

Sangmin bumped his way into the new office, arms loaded with a stack of papers about the same size as the stack on Shin’s desk.

“Took you long enough,” Shin snorted at his friend’s antics and picked up the packet again, “Did you get lost on the way here?”

“As a matter of fact,” Sangmin set his papers down on the desk across from Shin’s, “I did not. Gyu got lost trying to show me how to get here.”

He rolled his eyes, “Of course… Although I wouldn’t put it beyond that kid to get lost.”

“He’s a good kid,” Sangmin dusted off his uniform.

“By the way, how did you know his name the other day?”

Sangmin gave his friend an incredulous look.

“What?”

He said nothing but pointed to “KIM SANGMIN” stitched onto the right pocket of his uniform.

 


	7. Chapter 7

“They’re just kids. Why are you insisting that we speak with them?”

Taejoo gave his driver an unreadable look via the rearview mirror, “Because they accomplished in three years what took my family decades to set up. And from my understanding, they’re around my age.”

“I meant no disrespect, sir. But--”

“But?” he raised an eyebrow.

“But you’re from a long line in the Tiger Clan. These kids practically appeared overnight out of thin air.”

“ _That_ ,” Rang cut in, “is _exactly_ why we need to meet with them.”

Taejoo looked across the limo at the youngest of his bodyguards.

“They are bold. At least give them that,” Changsoon’s low voice, raspy with disuse, sounded, “They agreed to meet in our territory.”

“You can save your breath more than you usually do Soonie,” Rang deadpanned, “We know where we’re going.”

Changsoon scowled a little at the childhood nickname but said nothing.

Taejoo coughed a little in amusement but returned to the original topic of discussion, “If not form an alliance with them, we at least need to know what their motives are,” he added, “With those abilities… who knows what else they’re capable of.”

* * *

“You’re in our territory so we want 30% of your profits,” the man across the table gave a menacing grin.

Yongseok smirked under the black full face-mask. Oh, this was going to be fun. “What makes you think we’re making a profit?”

“What?” he wrinkled his eyebrows.

“What does it matter if we’re in your territory or not?” Yongseok leaned against the arm of his chair. Ox Tribe’s “boss” was a bulky, oaf-ish looking man who Yongseok decided looked like one of the bad guys from the old Pop-Eye cartoons he vaguely remembered seeing as a kid. His bodyguard was a willowy, awkward-looking fellow who kept glancing anxiously from “the boss” to Yongseok, to Casper, and back. Yongseok thought it a wonder the poor boy wasn’t dizzy yet.

“You’re indirectly under our protection.”

“What makes you think we need protection?” Let them think we’re stupid. Whatever it is that gets them out of here faster… but there was fun to be had though… To have fun… ? Or to get them out… Yongseok considered the two options.

“Because you do.”

“Not if we’re not making a profit.”

* * *

“You’re definitely making a profit,” Frank crossed his arms and fixed the other man in a hard stare.

“No we’re not.”

This… ‘Jinchuu’ gang… whatever that meant… their leader’s childish tone was grating on Frank’s nerves, “Then what’s the point?”

“The point of what?”

“Existing.”

“We were born.”

Frank wasn’t sure if the guy was genuinely stupid or making fun of him… all that combined with the black mask… “I mean you and your little posse. What’s the point of you existing?”

“We have our reasons.”

“And what are they?”

“Suffice to say, nothing that will have any consequences that you’d have to deal with.”

“But what are they?” They were idiots. Everything had consequences. And it was guaranteed that they would have to take care of it. Anything that went on in Ox Tribe territory was Frank’s business.

“That’s for us to know. Besides, give me one good reason why I should listen to you?” the masked asked slowly and tilted his head.

“I could crush you and your little gang in a second if you don’t tell me,” Frank scoffed, “We’re one of the oldest gangs around, and you’re in our territory. Why _wouldn’t_ you listen to us?”

“Boss, we _wanted_ to meet with them, remember?” his bodyguard suddenly blurted out.

“Benji,” Frank growled.

“Your bodyguard is quite a bright young man,” the man chuckled, “You wished to meet with us and so you must have _something_ to say? I know Tiger Clan will have something to say about this being in your territory.”

Frank knew all of the gangs; he knew where the red lines were on a map to mark the edges of a gang’s control. Was this man playing him for a fool? He would have to show these naive upstarts that the Ox Tribe was not one to be trifled with. “What does the Tiger clan have to do with this?” he tried to keep the disgust out of his tone.

“Tiger clan? They have _everything_ to do with this area, didn’t you know?”

“We’re not in Tiger Clan territory,” Benji, unable to contain himself, spoke again.

Frank was livid. ‘Bring Benji,’ they said, ‘he’s the smartest one we’ve got,’ they said. He finally managed to grind out, “What the kid said.”

“No, we are not,” the masked man inclined his head slightly to acknowledge the fact. “Where are we right now?”

“Excuse me?” the sudden change in subject caught him off-guard.

“We’re in the Koi,” Benji answered.

Frank glared at his errant bodyguard, “I apologize for the interruption--”

The man held up a hand, “Don’t worry about it. But, he is right. Good reflexes in that one. Better than yours, I daresay. Is that why you keep him around?”

The leader of the Ox Tribe gripped the armrests of his chair tightly and growled. This pathetic leader of this tiny upstart of a “gang” was making fun of him. How nice would it be just to reach across the table and wring all of their sad little necks.

Benji almost jumped when the other man’s bodyguard suddenly moved. Well… not so much moved as turned his piercing, lamp-like stare onto the boss. The man had been so still and unmoving--his eyes unreadable and the bottom half of his face covered with a simple cloth mask--Benji had just about forgotten about him.

Frank felt himself cower unconsciously under the heavy gaze. He forced himself to relax and stood up slowly, “I did not come to be insulted.”

“But boss, weren’t we supposed to form an alliance?”

The masked man looked up at the word ‘alliance.’

Perhaps… Benji’s tactlessness had its uses… “Yes, Benji,” Frank turned away with a sneer, “But they have insulted us and the deal is off.”

* * *

“So rude,” Yongseok blinked through the eye-holes of his mask, “We didn’t even have a deal. How can a deal be off if there was never one offered to begin with?”

Casper gave a muffled laugh, “You _did_ make fun of them.”

“How was I supposed to know that they’re so touchy about their reputation?” Yongseok looked up at his “bodyguard” and sighed, “Besides, I couldn’t help it. They make it so _easy_.”

“That they do,” Casper agreed, “But I have to keep a straight face over here.”

Yongseok was about to stick out his tongue but remembered he had a mask on and decided against it, “Not my fault you have a low threshold for laughing.”

Casper gave the younger man a hard stare but otherwise ignored the jab, “You never got to tell them what this has to do with the Tiger Clan.”

“They’ll find out,” Yongseok grinned under the mask, “Very soon.”

No sooner had Yongseok said this than the door to the private room opened and three men entered. He stood and observed them carefully. Well, that was rather curious. All of them looked very young… in fact, they couldn’t have been much older than ~~Seyoung~~ Zero.

The young man in the middle stepped forward, “I am Taejoo, Head of the Tiger Clan.”

* * *

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us on our terms,” Taejoo studied the two men in front of him. Yes, it appeared as though (as far as he could tell with the masks) neither of the two of them could be older than he was, if not the same age.

“No, it’s a surprise to us, really,” the man shook his head, “I hadn’t thought we managed to pique the interests of everyone around us.”

Taejoo held in a laugh, “If you’ll excuse my saying, it was impossible to ignore you.”

“I do apologize about the masks,” their presumed leader said in an amiable, if slightly muffled, voice, “We like to keep our faces hidden… more for your sake than for ours.”

“The masks are your business,” Taejoo waved it aside. “I, on the other hand, would like to apologize for our tardiness. We had a run-in with one of our neighbors… they seemed a bit lost.”

“That would be our fault, really.”

“Do tell?” Taejoo leaned forward in his seat.

The masked man drummed his fingers on the table, “Ox Tribe insisted on… making us a last-minute ‘offer’ before we were to meet with you. We didn’t want to rush back and so we offered that they meet us here right before you… which surprisingly, they agreed to.”

He sat back and wrinkled his brows slightly, “Indeed…” That was a troubling thought. Ox Tribe usually kept to themselves… mostly from being ostracized by the other gangs. No one really wanted to deal with them. But for them to wander so far from their territory...

“They didn’t seem to know the connection between the Koi and your family.”

“Somehow…” Taejoo mulled it over, “Somehow, I’m not surprised. And judging by the fact that Frank looked rather upset, I’d say it didn’t go well for him?”

Rather upset was an understatement for the fury they had seen on Frank’s face as they were walking into the hotel. Even Changsoon’s eyes had widened at the sight.

“Ah… I have a bad habit of… poking fun at individuals if given the chance… and he did give me many many chances.”

“I’d imagine he did. So tell me… why?”

“Pardon?”

“Why all this?” Taejoo gestured around him, “Why the gang? The networks?”

“Well… if I told you,” the man chuckled and Taejoo thought he saw a flicker in his eyes through the mask, “I’d have to kill you.”

“Don’t provoke.”

Another voice came now. A different voice. If Taejoo had to find a way to describe it, he would’ve said it sounded like hanging yourself with a rope made of satin. Was it the bodyguard? But no, the bodyguard hadn’t moved… then again it was hard to tell with the masks…

“There’s a difference,” a man entered the room from the balcony, where he had presumably been for the entirety of the conversation. He wore a black, low-brimmed hat and also had a mask over his face… And yet his voice rang out so clearly. Taejoo felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

Perhaps next time, he would tell Rang to check the balconies too rather than telling him to stand guard outside the doors. Taejoo cleared his throat, “And who are you?”

“Ah, I forgot to mention,” it was the original masked man speaking now, “I’m not the head of our gang.”

Taejoo snapped his attention back to the one sitting across from him, “You mean I’ve been speaking with a substitute?”

“Well… no,” he tilted his head, “We don’t exactly have anyone who we’d call ‘boss’ or ‘leader’ or ‘head’ or whatever.”

“Go now,” the man in the hat spoke again. Taejoo felt the velvety tendrils of that voice reach out and wrap around his throat, his wrists. It pinned him to his seat.

“Are you dismissing us?” Taejoo wasn’t sure whether to feel insulted or confused.

“No,” the bodyguard suddenly moved and pulled the mask off, rough voice now unhindered by cloth, “He means me.”

Taejoo swallowed as the bodyguard strode past him, past Changsoon and through the doors that Rang was guarding. Now that he saw the bodyguard’s full face… there was a nagging sensation… some familiarity that was just beyond his grasp.

“We don’t have leader,” the first man relinquished his seat for the other, “We have Zero.”

“Zero… ?” that was quite a name… Taejoo watched as he settled in the chair, “So you’re Zero. And you’re the… mastermind?”

“No. No leader,” the man took his hat off, revealing a shock of white hair, “No mastermind,” he took his mask off, “Just Zero.” He smiled.

Taejoo’s words froze on his lips and he heard Changsoon’s sharp intake of breath next to him. Finally, he managed to whisper, “It’s you… from that case…”

Zero nodded once, smile never leaving his face.

“We’re in,” Taejoo cleared his throat and continued in a stronger voice, “Whatever it is you need, we can deliver. We’re in.”

Zero grinned.

* * *

Casper watched the individual raindrops fall and shatter on the windshield of the car as he leaned over onto the steering wheel. He nodded at the tall Japanese man in the passenger’s seat.

Takuya turned to the back seat and smirked, “Are you ready to go home, pretty?”

“Yes.”


	8. Chapter 8

My brother is gone. _He curled into a tight ball under the thin blanket. His body shuddered._ I’ll never see him again. My brother is gone.

* * *

_“Hey, you know that MMA fighter?”_

_“Which one?”_

_“The Chinese one.”_

_“Oohhhhhh. You mean Casper?”_

_“Um…sure. What kind of a name is Casper?”_

_“The hell if I know. I guess it’s his ‘fighter’ name?”_

_“I guess that makes sense…”_

_“Anyways. What about him?”_

_“Well, he’s not so much Casper anymore as he is 243600.”_

_“Wait, what?”_

_“He’s locked up here in my wing.”_

_“Dang… Wait, in_ your _wing? They didn’t put him in solitary?”_

_“That’s what I said. He got into a fight with one of the other guys the other day already.”_

_“Jesus… You gotta be careful with these guys.”_

_“Almost killed his cellmate on the first day.”_

_“Ouch… Poor guy.”_

_“Eh, not really. The ‘poor guy’ is the one from that murder case… Gives me the creeps whenever he looks at me. I’d almost rather they killed each other.”_

_“You mean they put them in the same cell? You’d think they’d put at least_ one _of them into solitary.”_

_“Preferably both of them… Speaking of which, they brought someone into solitary didn’t they?”_

_“Not yet… They’re waiting to catch the guy right now. But when they bring him in, he’s going straight to solitary.”_

_“Good. Seriously, he needs to go into solitary. I’ve got enough to worry about without him causing trouble for me.”_

_“Be careful, man. He could probably kill you with his bare hands.”_

* * *

_He was sitting in time-out. His parents had put him there for… what was it again? Ah, that’s right. He had punched the neighbor’s kid for making fun of his brother. Now why couldn’t his parents understand how awful of an insult “chubby cheeks” was? Sure, it was true his brother had chubby cheeks but--_

_“What are you doing here?” he hissed, “I’m in time-out. Get out of here. You’ll get in trouble too.”_

_His brother shook his head vigorously, fluffy hair bouncing back and forth._

_He listened carefully._

_“--NEVER LISTEN. WHY DO I EVEN BOTHER?”_

_“AS IF YOU’RE ONE TO TALK ABOUT LISTENING. HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I--”_

_He looked back to his brother, “Okay, you can stay.”_

* * *

_He woke with a gasp to find his cellmate standing over him with a blank expression._

_“Are you okay?”_

_“Yeah, I’m fine,” he sat up and rubbed his eyes, “Did you wake me up?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Why?”_

_“You weren’t sleeping,” his cellmate continued to stand solemnly next to his cot._

_He stared, “Yes, I was.”_

_“No.”_

_“Zero…” he groaned and put his face in his hands. What on earth was up with this guy? One minute he was holding a semi-normal conversation and the next, he was speaking in riddles. Then again, he_ did _call himself Zero… There was no way that was his real name._

_“I was dreaming, Zero.”_

_“You weren’t sleeping.”_

_He took a moment to process this, “Seriously, what are you talking about?”_

_“You were dreaming and you were speaking. Not sleeping.”_

_“Wait, you said I was… speaking?”_

_Zero nodded slowly and sat down at the foot of his bed._

_“What…was I ‘speaking’ about?”_

_“A brother.”_

_“Oh.” That’s right… He had been dreaming about getting in trouble… How did the dream end again?_

_“I…” Zero suddenly spoke, “I had a brother… I think…”_

_He stared. It was odd of Zero to say anything without being prompted to do so… And even when he did, it was usually an incomprehensible riddle of sorts. It was even more rare of Zero to talk about his family… The few times he had asked, the older man had just given him an apathetic look and ignored the question._

_“He was… older than me? They always said I looked like him too.”_

_“Why do you keep speaking in past tense?”_

_Zero let out a humorless bark of laughter, “I’m not his brother anymore. I don’t remember. This is my life now.”_

_“I don’t really remember my brother either... I haven’t seen him since we were,” he tried to remember when was the last time he had seen his little brother, “I haven’t seen him since we were three or four.”_

_“How long.”_

_“Almost twenty years?”_

_Zero nodded thoughtfully as if to say that twenty years was a long time to forget something._

_“You know, he used to get bullied all the time.”_

_For once, when Zero turned to stare at him, he wasn’t unnerved by that empty, distant, yet piercing gaze._

_“I used to get in trouble for beating up the other kids… but they always made fun of him because he was smaller, younger… cuter,” he chuckled softly. “The neighbors would complain to our parents and… well, what could they do? They put me in time out… told me violence wasn’t the answer.”_

_“Not always.”_

_“Yeah… but what did I know?” he looked down at his hands, opened his palms, stretched his fingers as wide as they would go and then balled them into fists. “While I was in time out, he’d get lonely and come find me,” more often than not with a hot wheels car in each hand._

_Zero gave a soft smirk, the closest thing to a smile--or any facial expression--he had ever seen on his cellmate._

_“Eventually our parents started separating us to stop him from doing that,” he shifted himself and turned so he was leaning back against the wall. He turned to Zero, “You know what he used to say to me? ‘It’s okay if the other kids make fun of me. Just don’t get in trouble anymore. I can’t see you if you’re in time out.’ And now… I’m_ still _in time out.”_

_“I’m sorry.”_

_“It’s alright… I just wish I’d gotten to see him one last time before all of…_ this. _”_

* * *

_“Championships defaulted.”_

_“Yeah, I know.” Figures that he’d be sitting in a prison cell during the MMA championships… Had it really only been two months since he had been brought in?_

_“Two cells down.”_

_He thought about it for a moment… the inmates two cells down from theirs? “They were talking about it?”_

_Zero nodded._

_He sighed._

_“You were supposed to.”_

_He was supposed to go? He was supposed to win? He shrugged, “No use. Absence is a forfeit.”_

_“You would have.”_

_“Probably.” His opponent didn’t have the best stats or record… so it was fairly likely that he would have won… “I could care less about the championship really.”_

_The dream ended… always with both of them falling asleep and then waking up tucked in bed… and then their parents got divorced and mom took his brother and he stayed with dad and--_

_“Six Hundred.”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Return the favor.”_

_Return the favor, huh? Give it right back to the guys who got the two of them in here? Six Hundred nodded solemnly, “Yeah.”_


	9. Chapter 9

Shin sighed and rubbed at his eyes, “I got a question…”

“What’s up,” Sergeant Do didn’t look up from the papers on his desk.

“How come we have all these detailed, up-to-date profiles about all the gangs and their members but next to nothing about Jinchuu?” he deliberately placed one more packet onto the growing stack that was his designated ‘Completed Tiger Clan’ pile.

“What do you mean?” the senior officer looked up now.

“Like…” Shin flipped back to the beginning of his notebook and began reading off his notes.

Sergeant Do waved him off, “Tiger Clan is one of the highest-profiled gangs in existence… they hardly keep anything a secret.”

He continued reading, “The current leaders all grew up together as childhood friends. After an accidental gas explosion at a rendezvous point for negotiation, many if not most of the elder members including the clan head at the time were killed… ” Shin put his notebook down, “The childhood friends part? That’s bordering on personal information right there.”

“Bordering, still not exactly top secret,” Sergeant Do returned to his own notes, “I’m not too sure about where that information came from, though.”

“I think I remember hearing about the gas explosion on the news few years ago though,” Shin glanced over at Sangmin who as of late had a chronic scowl creased over his features, “Gang or not, that must’ve been awful for them.” He scanned through the list of clan leaders again, “It looks like just about all of them lost someone,” he added quietly.

“That they did,” Sergeant Do put his papers down and leaned back in his chair, “If you look at the older files, you can see the list of deceased.”

Shin picked up the next packet in the stack of papers and briefly flipped through it, “So there is… anyways, why is there nothing on Jinchuu.”

“Well, Jinchuu is small…” Do Hwansung began ticking off the reasons on his fingers, “relatively new… and they don’t operate as a gang unit very often,” he shrugged, “and when they do, they wear masks.”

He blinked, “Masks?”

“Yup,” Sergeant Do mimed putting on a full face mask.

Shin shook his head, “What are they trying to do, be the next Anonymous?”

He chuckled a bit and went back to his paperwork, “Thankfully they just use normal-looking masks. As for being Anonymous, well that’s anybody’s guess.” Hwansung looked up as though suddenly remembering something, “Right, the hardcopies haven’t come in yet, so it won’t be in your stack, but Jinchuu met with both Tiger Clan and Ox Tribe recently.”

“Anything come of it?” his eyebrows shot up but he managed to keep an even tone.

“Nope,” Sergeant Do shook his head and pursed his lips, “All we know is that there’s no formal alliance or agreement of any sort. Jinchuu is probably just trying to test the waters.”

Shin paused for a moment, “Wait, Ox Tribe _and_ Tiger Clan? Both of them?”

“Yup,” he nodded, “In the Koi nonetheless.”

“Not at the same time, I hope.”

“Of course not,” the older man snorted, “Some of our sources did see them all in the lobby at the same time though.”

Shin raised an eyebrow, “Oh? How did that go?”

Sergeant Do waved him off, “Ox Tribe knows better than to pick a fight with Tiger.”

“Meeting in the Koi is just about picking a fight.”

Do Hwansung said nothing but pursed his lips and nodded matter-of-factly.

Shin opened the notebook he had labelled ‘Ox Tribe’ and flipped through, pausing on the general clan profile page he had bookmarked. After glancing through the decidedly unimpressive stats, he finally said, “Ox Tribe is either ridiculously uninformed or they grew a pair and went straight into Tiger Clan’s territory just to talk with Jinchuu…”

The other man appeared to think for a moment before saying, “I’d say the first one is more probable,” he added, “although both are equally likely--”

A sudden steady stream of curses from Sangmin made both men look over. Shin shook his head sympathetically.

“What’s up?” Sergeant Do craned his neck to see what had the police officer so frazzled, “What have you got there Sangmin?”

Sangmin haphazardly waved a few sheets of paper around before dropping them in a heap on his desk, “Just one of the field reports from today,” he massaged his temples, “My head hurts… so many typos.”

Shin snorted, “Like you’re one to curse about typos.”

“Oh the--” Sangmin blinked a few times, as though processing everything that had happened that could cause him to dissolve into a pile of profanity, “I... left my umbrella in the patrol car.”

“Of course you did.”

* * *

Sangmin leaned against the railing next to his friend, “So, Hyunmi’s back.”

“Oh yeah?” the detective looked unaffected by this news.

“Yeah,” he scowled a bit, trying to remember what he had heard the other officers say, “They found her at the street corner where they saw her last actually.”

“Really?” Shin blew a puff of smoke into the air, “How did she get there?”

He shook his head, “Not sure… she’s not really answering questions.”

“What do you mean?” It was Shin’s turn to scowl now as he took another drag from his cigarette.

“Well, they asked her how she got there and she keeps saying she walked there. When they asked her about her kidnappers, she had no idea what they were talking about. And when they asked her about her boyfriend, she just said that he never showed up.”

“That’s… interesting,” he tapped at his cigarette, “She lost two weeks.”

“It’s like the past two weeks didn’t even happen,” Sangmin went on, “They think she’s been put through hypnosis or severe behavioral conditioning of some sort.”

Shin let out a cynical bark of laughter, “That’s the most logical thing I’ve heard since entering law enforcement.”

“They’re gonna send her to a therapist or psychiatrist or something to see if they can get her back.”

“Sounds about right,” he nodded absentmindedly, “By the way, why is he here?” Shin gestured to an awkward-looking, if cheerful figure standing a ways off.

"Who, Gyu?"

He cast his gaze skyward.

Sangmin squeezed his eyes shut and sighed, “He followed me here.”

Shin gave his friend a look, “... you better not ask me if we can keep him.”

“I tried to shake him off, really,” Sangmin shrugged half-heartedly.

“Sure,” Shin knew he probably did try his best… It really couldn’t be helped that his friend’s one true fault was that he had a heart of gold. He took a drag from his cigarette and exhaled slowly. His eyes followed the wispy trails of smoke, visible reminders of the fact that he was breathing and therefore alive. After a moment, he tapped his cigarette again, “Did you see the packet I left on your desk the other day?”

“Yeah…” Sangmin rubbed a hand over his face, his dark eyebrows suddenly creased, “Wait, did you think I actually forgot my umbrella?"

“I wouldn’t put it beyond you to be cursing about an umbrella on a sunny day.”

Sangmin narrowed his eyes and looked skyward momentarily, “Anyways, is that what we’re going to check out today?”

“Yup.” Shin stubbed out his cigarette against the railing with a little more force than necessary.

“Then,” Sangmin jerked his head in Gyu’s direction, “it might help to have one more person.”

Shin, who had already begun walking away, turned and looked at his friend for a moment, “If you say so.” He did have a point.

* * *

“What are you guys doing today? Do you guys usually hang out together on your days off? Whoa, you have a huge manga collection here. One Piece… Naruto… Bleach, you got all of the big three? Ah, not up to date though. Yo, Trigun… Rurouni Kenshin too? Dude that series was the best,” Gyu turned, wide-eyed to Shin, “Do you mind?” His hands inched towards the shelves.

Shin blinked a few times, “Um, sure. Help yourself.”

“Aw, but you’re missing one,” he pulled one of the books off the shelf and flipped through it, “Volume 18.”

Shin glanced over. Gyu was holding both Volume 17 and Volume 19 of Rurouni Kenshin and looking back and forth between the two. He resisted the urge to snort at the forlorn expression on the young cadet’s face,  “I haven’t been able to find it since I moved out of KAIST.”

“Man, and it was the beginning of the final arc too,” Gyu shook his head and put the books back on the shelf.

“The final arc? Never got to it,” Shin had to fight from going over and dusting off the shelf. Even if he didn’t read them anymore--they served more as relics of the life he once had--relics had to be maintained, right? “I was waiting until I had time to get another Volume 18.”

“And you never did?”

“Does it look like I did?”

“Ah,” Gyu shoved his hands in his pockets, “You missed the best part though.”

He shrugged, “I finished the anime--twice.”

“They never animated the final arc.”

“Didn’t they?”

“Nope.”

“What about the OVAs?”

“Dude, even the mangaka said those don’t count.”

“I didn’t think they were _that_ bad.”

“No, they were bad.”

Shin pursed his lips before turning and calling out in the direction of his home office, “Are you done yet?”

“Yeah, I got everything,” as if on cue, Sangmin emerged with some papers and a gun in a holster, which he offered to Gyu, “Here, take this.”

“What?” if the poor cadet looked taken aback but hesitantly reached out and took the weapon, “Why?”

“You never know,” Sangmin shrugged, “You might not.”

Shin felt as though if Gyu’s eyes opened any wider, they were likely to pop out of the boy’s skull, “Just take it. If you’re so set on following us around, don’t question us.”

* * *

“Are you certain?” Sangmin stood by Shin’s desk as the detective sorted through the stacks of paper.

“No,” he paused, “which is why we’re investigating on our day off.”

“We always investigate on our days off,” Sangmin blinked.

Shin grumbled, “Look, I told you, I still can’t get my hands on that file.”

“All jokes aside, you _really_ need to get that promotion.”

“Fuck that promotion,” he angrily yanked a folder out of his desk drawer, “I don’t have the funds for it.”

Sangmin shook his head and followed the detective out of the office, “You know I’d help you if I could.”

Shin looked at his friend for a moment before nodding absentmindedly.

“What are you boys doing here, today’s your day off,” an unfamiliar voice jarred both men out of their thoughts.

“Forgot to pick up some stuff,” Shin answered with a drawl and waved the folder in his hands.

“Stuff? What sort of stuff?” the other man scratched at the stubble along his jawline, “If it’s that file you got there, I can take it off your hands. Kids these days, it’s always just work, work, work. Go out and be young while you can.”

Shin felt the muscles in his spine tense as he subconsciously tightened his grip on the folder, “With all due respect sir, I really don’t know what it means to ‘be young’ anymore.”

“What is that file anyways,” the older man scowled a little.

“My personal notes on the gangs,” Shin fought to keep the biting tone out of his voice, “I was only recently transferred so I’m just trying to catch up.”

“I see,” he nodded slowly as though unconvinced, “Don’t stress yourselves.”

“Yes sir.”

* * *

“What took you guys so long?” Gyu bounded towards them as they exited the police department building.

“Nothing, just couldn’t find my notes.”

Sangmin gave Shin a sidelong glance but didn’t bother to elaborate.

“Oh,” he paused, “Well where are we going?”

Shin pulled a pack of cigarettes out and fished around his pockets for a lighter, “We’re gonna go pay Choi Sangwon a visit.”

“That’s right, wasn’t he released from questioning earlier?”

“Yup,” he cupped his hands around the cigarette as he lit it and exhaled a lungful of smoke, “So we’re gonna go say hi and find out what we can about the questioning process and how we could improve on it.”

Gyu gave him an unreadable look but otherwise said nothing.

* * *

There was a few moments of silence.

“Maybe he’s not home?” Gyu quipped.

“Hm,” Shin wrinkled his eyebrows and knocked again, “Mr. Choi Sangwon.”

Again, nothing.

“Choi Sangwon, this is Detective Shin Wonho with the police department. This is a follow-up to your interrogation, please open the door.”

“I… don’t think he’s home.”

Shin pursed his lips, pulled on the pair of surgical gloves Sangmin handed to him and tried the door handle. To his surprise, the door swung open easily. His scowled a little in concern, “Sangwon?”

The three of them slowly filed into the apartment.

"He couldn't have just left," Shin mumbled under his breath, "Just a few questions. That was all we were going to do." He made his way into the kitchen and stared at a steaming pot, left abandoned on the stove.

Gyu emerged from the hallway to the rooms in the back, “There’s no one home.”

Sangmin raised an eyebrow and pushed past the younger man, "Are you sure?"

“I checked everywhere,” Gyu called after him.

“There _was_ definitely someone home,” Shin called out from the kitchen, “They’ve been gone,” he held his hand out towards the stove, testing the temperature, “ten minutes, tops.”

Gyu, who had made his way back into the bedroom was opening dressers and closets and cabinets, “Maybe he didn’t know we were coming?”

“He didn’t know,” Sangmin stood in the living room, scowling and looking around the small one-bedroom apartment, “He shouldn’t have known…”

“Maybe we should make an appointment and come back later,” Gyu, having returned from his own investigations, moved to stand by the window and peered out the blinds.

“No…” Shin shook his head and opened the front door, preparing to leave. He stood in the doorway for a moment as though surveying the view.

“Hey, there’s someone--” Gyu turned back to report what he had seen outside the window to find that the other two had already taken off.

He bolted towards the door to see the person running down the sidewalk across the street and heard the clatter of stairs to his left as Shin and Sangmin chased after. Gyu sighed and mumbled something under his breath about efficiency before he vaulted over the third floor railing.

* * *

Shin could hear Sangmin bounding after him as well as his own breath rasping in his ears. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins. There was no way, no WAY. “Sangwon!” he shouted. The man continued running.

* * *

Sangmin found himself sorely missing his baton. They had been taught at the police academy how to twirl the baton to disperse crowds and where did all these people come from? He was convinced that the entire population of the city had decided that it was a good day to skip work and be out on the streets.

* * *

Sangmin gave a shout and Shin looked to where his friend was pointing. He nearly stumbled at the sight of Gyu, who had not only somehow made it down the stairs before them but was now racing after Sangwon. Leaping over cars, running along railings, flying off the tops of low walls, bypassing the busy crowds. Shin suddenly became aware of how much his lungs and throat burned.

There were too many people.

The press of too many clamoring, jostling bodies. He had to get out.

He needed to catch Sangwon. He needed to ask Sangwon the questions burning in the back of his mind. Why was this crowd here?

There were too many people. Shin was trying desperately to get through the mass of human bodies. He wanted to push them, kick them over, scream at them, anything that would get them out of his way.

It wasn’t like they could yell “police” and expect the crowd to part like the Red Sea. Don’t attract attention. Keep low. This wasn’t an official investigation.

Why were there so many people? Shin had already lost sight of Sangwon. He pressed onwards, forcing his way through the heavily crowded sidewalk. Too many people. It was as though they were towering in over him, crushing him. He had to get out of this crowd. He had to get away from them. He lunged.

Shin tripped and fell out of the crowd. Sangmin came behind with a slightly more graceful exit.

“Are you alright?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and gasped for air. Maybe Sangmin was right about the smoking. Then again, he had never been athletic.  Shin wanted to scream in frustration.

* * *

“Is he okay?” Gyu approached cautiously.

“He’ll be fine,” Sangmin answered, “Where’s Sangwon?”

He pointed behind him, “I followed him to that alley and when I turned the corner, there was a car.”

“There was a car," Sangmin blinked. It sounded like something out of a heist movie where the police turned the corner only to be confronted by a set of headlights and-- He cleared his throat, "Are you alright?”

“I got out of the way fast enough," Gyu shrugged, "There was a fire escape.”

“Speaking of fire escape… how did you get out so fast?”

“I did parkour for a long time when I was in high school,” the cadet winced, "It's been a while since then, though. I'm probably going to feel it tomorrow morning. Everywhere."

“You didn’t catch him?” Shin wheezed out.

Gyu gave the detective a matter-of-fact look, “I’m not as young as I look you know…”

“Welp," Sangmin threw up his hands, "There goes our only lead.”

Shin choked and slowly rose to his feet, “Goddammit.”

“Lead?” Gyu looked back and forth between the two, eyes wide.

“Don’t worry about it," Sangmin clapped a hand on his shoulder, "If Chief Jun hadn’t stopped us at the station, we might have gotten here earlier.”

Gyu seemed to perk up at this, “Chief Jun was at the station?"

Shin, having recovered somewhat, nodded but said nothing.

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”


	10. Chapter 10

_“I’m just glad she’s home and safe now.”_

 

“Safe, my ass,” Yongseok remarked.

 

_“She’s still not all there.”_

_“But she looks fine.”_

_“Well, yes, they haven’t found anything wrong with her other than a gap in her memory.”_

 

“You know,” Six Hundred rubbed at his bottom lip, “I almost feel bad for her.”

“Even after what she did?” Yongseok cocked an eyebrow at him.

He scowled, “That’s why I said ‘almost.’”

 

_“So what’s the plan now?”_

_“Her memory will be the key to solving this case, so with physician supervision--”_

 

“‘Supervision,’” Six Hundred said glumly, “He means himself, right?”

Yongseok was cackling too hard to answer.

 

_“I’m confident that she’ll make a full recovery.”_

 

“Good luck with that,” Yongseok managed to choke out between bouts of laughter.

Takuya gave his friend a look of mild disdain mixed with amusement, “You sure it’ll work?”

Yongseok wiped tears of mirth from his eyes, “I didn’t study psychology all those years for nothing, you know. Even if I didn’t get to graduate,” he added as an afterthought.

 

_“Even if she doesn’t recover fully, she’ll always be my daughter and she’s back where she belongs. That’s what counts.”_

 

Six Hundred coughed, “Isn’t this news station’s motto ‘the truth to you first’?”

“You’d think this was a comedy channel,” Yongseok shrugged, “My stomach already hurts from laughing too much before or I’d laugh more.” He glanced over at Takuya before leaning over to cling onto the Japanese man’s arm, “He seems like a such good father, doesn’t he, dear?” he gave an exaggerated sigh, “So kind and warm and loving.”

Takuya shook the younger man off and snorted as Yongseok dissolved into another bout of silent laughter.

* * *

Six Hundred glanced around at the dreary grounds they were standing on. It was an abandoned concrete lot of some sort with grass and weeds springing up from the cracks in the cement and along the edge where the ground met the wall of a large, empty metal warehouse. Yongseok was crouched by the building poking at an ant pile with a long stem of grass as Takuya wandered around, kicking at rusted barrels. Six Hundred looked up at the cloudy grey sky, “What are we supposed to be doing here?”

“Taejoo,” Zero’s voice rang out clearly in the crisp autumn air.

He rubbed at his chin under the black cloth mask, “Any idea why?”

Zero said nothing but stared intently at a point behind him. In response, Six Hundred turned to see a young man walking towards them. He wasn’t the towering Chief of Security who had entered the room with the Head of the Tiger Clan when they had met at the Koi. Nor was he the composed but slightly startled bodyguard who he had seen when he had exited the room to meet up with Takuya. No, this was someone else. Six Hundred eyed the newcomer suspiciously.

The young man offered a lopsided smile and bowed curtly, “Kwon Youngin. I was one of Taejoo’s bodyguards but I’ve been re-assigned to be your contact.”

“How do we know we can trust you?” Six Hundred narrowed his eyes.

“You don’t,” Youngin answered matter-of-factly, “But you _can_ trust _this_ ,” he gestured at the area of land they were standing on.

Something flickered in Zero’s eyes but he said nothing and instead nodded once.

The other members glanced around at each other but took the cue.

“Now that we’re on the same page, how about we go inside where we aren’t so noticeable?” Despite the fact that Youngin had smiled when he said this, there was a sort of detached air about him… an aloofness Six Hundred couldn’t quite place.

Six Hundred lifted an eyebrow but the other had already turned and started walking towards the warehouse. He looked at the rest of his friends, shrugged, and followed after.

* * *

There was a surprising lack of dust when Youngin pushed the rough, rusted doors open, “Welcome to Warehouse Five.”

“Is this safe?” Yongseok’s voice echoed in the large, empty space. The building had somehow looked smaller from the outside, surrounded by a vast stretch of land. He looked around the interior of the cavernous, airplane hanger of an abandoned warehouse.

Youngin gave them a wan look, “Of course. We try to keep this place as inconspicuously maintained as possible.”

True to his word, the beams and rafters all looked to be in fairly good condition in contrast with the outside shell of weathered, dusty walls. Something about the way he said ‘inconspicuously’ made Yongseok look around sharply before going to shut the door behind them.

* * *

Youngin stood with his back to them for a moment, slowly taking in the surroundings. The first time he had ever paid any notice to this particular building, it had been because his sister pointed it out to him, saying that this was where the negotiations always took place. He felt his brow slowly knitting together at the thought of his sister… Youngin shook his head a little. He was here for work. Memories could come later.

“So,” Youngin slowly turned and pursed his lips for a moment, “What is it that you have planned?”

The four men opposite him glanced at each other. Well, three of them glanced around at each other before all looking at the fourth, who did and said nothing but continued staring at him with a blank, piercing gaze.

He arched an eyebrow but didn’t push it further, “I know you don’t trust me. But I have no reason to lie. I want them dead as much as you do.”

Again, he was met with silence.

Youngin sighed internally but didn’t waver. It seemed a lifetime being raised by and with Changsoon did have its merits. “You don’t have to tell me everything,” he held up his hands, “But I can’t help you if I don’t know what it is you need.”

“Information.”

Youngin felt an involuntary shudder threaten to take hold of his spine. Taejoo had told him about this man’s voice. How it sounded like a silk ribbon slowly slithering and tightening around his windpipe. Zero. He swallowed in an attempt to dislodge the figurative ribbon, “What sort of information?”

* * *

Yongseok lifted his chin, “We want information about the police force.”

“What would you like to know?”

Six Hundred could have sworn he saw Youngin smirk, but as soon as the expression registered, it was gone, leaving him to wonder whether or not he’d seen it at all.

“Our personal case,” Yongseok continued, “We also want to know how investigations on our killings are proceeding.”

Youngin gave a distant, but confident smile, “Your personal case, as far as I know, has been gathering dust in a high-security clearance case,” he paused and directed them a meaningful look, “It’s pending investigation.”

“What a surprise,” Takuya grumbled.

“There _are_ some investigating, though,” the young man started pacing away. Six Hundred had half a mind to follow him, but thought better of it. After all, he was headed deeper into the warehouse, not towards the exit.

Yongseok perked up, “So they did assign the case to members of the police force?”

He stopped, “No.” His quiet rasp of an answer bounced up to the rafters and scattered before echoing back into their ears.

“You said they were investigating,” Yongseok cocked his head to the side, a hint of wariness creeping into his tone.

“Yes, but they are not assigned. From what I understand, they have some… personal interest of sorts,” Youngin sighed and turned back to them. He looked each of them in the eye, letting the information worm its way into their minds before speaking again, “They were originally assigned to the murder cases.”

“Not anymore?”

He clasped his hands behind his back and shook his head, “They were transferred a short while ago.”

“So suddenly?” Yongseok began chewing at his bottom lip, “That’s a bit strange, even for the police force.”

“Supposedly they got someone more ‘competent’ and should close investigations this week,” Youngin’s mouth quirked into a wry smirk.

“Well,” a fiendish grin spread over Yongseok’s features, “Let us know when they do ‘close’ the investigations and we’ll open it up for them again.”

“The ones who were investigating our personal case,” Takuya crossed his arms, eyeing their contact, “They were transferred off the murders?”

“Not ‘murder,’” Yongseok rolled his eyes, “More like ‘kindly doing society a favor by removing worthless individuals from the gene pool.’”

Six Hundred glanced towards Zero, who had remained silent throughout the whole exchange. The older man caught his look and winked one silvery-lashed eyelid shut before deliberately turning towards Youngin.

The young man seemed to catch the question indicated by Zero’s slight incline of the head, “I am here to make your plans work.” Something flashed in Youngin’s eyes, “So… what’ll you have me do?”

* * *

“And he didn’t even offer to shake hands with us,” Yongseok pouted, attention fixed on a small puzzle cube.

Takuya rolled his eyes at the youngest, “He probably knew we wouldn’t take it.”

“But he should at least try, right?” Yongseok’s eyes darted to Takuya and then back to the cube in his hands.

“He’s an experienced bodyguard,” Takuya stood from the couch and stretched, “You probably _don’t_ want him to touch you.”

Six Hundred, who had since removed his mask called out from where he was sitting at his laptop, “If he has reason to, you’d probably want to have an ambulance on standby.”

“You really think so?”

Six Hundred looked up from the screen and shut the device before leaning back in his chair. He was remembering every opponent he had ever met both inside and outside the ring, “I fought professionally for years, I know a fighter when I see one.”

Yongseok unceremoniously tossed the cube onto the table in front of him, “I’ll say this. That door… That door was really heavy.”

“Really?” Takuya emerged from the kitchen with a glass of water, “He opened it like it was nothing.”

“There’s more to him than you can get just by looking,” Yongseok stared intently into space, as though he were seeing figures and diagrams and equations that none of the rest of them were privy to, “It’s not everyone who can read Zero that easily. There’s more to him. You can trust me or don’t.”

* * *

“Look at me.”

She blinked and shook her head blearily. The room swung in a dizzy arc before her.

“Hyunmi.”

The misshapen colored blobs slowly resolved into a clean, white-walled room with a doctor sitting in front of her.

“Do you remember what happened?”

 _What does he mean? What were we talking about before?_ She stared at the doctor for a moment.

“Why isn’t she answering?”

She felt her spine stiffen at her father’s voice.

The doctor answered smoothly, “She’s going to be a bit disoriented. Most patients are when they undergo hypnosis for the first time.”

 _Doctor Yang._ She remembered. They had brought her in for questioning… to see what happened because they said she was gone for two weeks. Part of her doubted them. It was probably part of another of her father’s ruses. Well she believed the two weeks part, he couldn’t fake the calendars, but she still felt like there was something off, something wrong… Well, better play along then.

“Do you remember what happened, Hyunmi?”

She swallowed meekly, “I-I think so?”

“Good,” Doctor Yang nodded, satisfied. He crossed his legs and pulled out a notepad and pen, “Tell me.”

“Changjoon never showed up,” Hyunmi chewed her lip. This part was a lie. He had showed up before--

“And?” the young doctor raised an eyebrow. Was he even a doctor? Hyunmi wasn’t sure of that. He was probably some poor police cadet who had been threatened to play the role convincingly.

She searched her memories. Changjoon had showed up and then they had been kidnapped and then…. And then what? She whirled around to face her father, “Where’s Changjoon, is he okay?”

“He’s dead,” Commissioner Lee scowled back at her, “What else do you remember.”

“Dead?” She felt a wave or dread wash through her, “He’s dead??” But he couldn’t be dead. He just couldn’t be. How did he die? But?

“That’s what I said--” Commissioner Lee grumbled.

Tears stung at her eyes. Changjoon couldn’t be dead. Could he? “Oh my god,” a sudden realization dawned upon her. Hyunmi looked at the doctor, a growing sense of fear and horror welling up inside of her. “They were right,” she whispered.

“Who’s ‘they’?” Doctor Yang and Commissioner Lee exchanged glances.

“They…” Hyunmi wrinkled her brows, brought her hands up to her temples. Blurry shapes, strong arms, kind voices. A warm blanket. Food, being slowly fed to her. A hand rubbing comforting circles on her back. “I don’t remember who they were. I can’t. But they saved me.”

“From?”

She went on, ignoring the doctor’s question, “They saved me and brought me to that street corner again so you would know where to find me.”

“Saved you from what?”

Hyunmi turned to her father again, “They said they saved me from a horrible man.”

“Who is the horrible man?”

“I… I don’t remember. I don’t know.”

* * *

Youngin drummed his fingers on the lacquered tabletop as he waited for his guests to arrive at the restaurant. Ten Swords was one of the smaller establishments under Tiger Clan. Darker, gloomier, less prosperous than the Koi or the Blue Butterfly. It wasn’t that they didn’t have the funds to bring it up to par with the five-star status of the others… but there were times that a smaller, less conspicuous place suited them just fine.

He picked at the corner of a chipped piece of lacquer absentmindedly, organizing his thoughts one last time before he heard the bamboo curtain rattle as four tall men entered the private room.

Youngin took mental note on each of them as they came in. The first one, the fighter with the cloth mask and sharp eyes. Second, running a hand through bright red hair, pulling off a black plastic mask, the speaker. Third, the psychotic pretty-boy, the actor who towered over even Changsoon. And the fourth one, the last one, the cold-blooded mastermind who was simultaneously a hair’s breadth from mentally shattering and a hair’s breadth from sanity. Even in the dim yellow lighting, his shock of white-blonde hair seemed to glow.

In the back of his mind, Youngin looked at the imposing picture the four of them made and wondered, even with the hats and masks, how the police hadn’t discovered their identities yet. But that was also part of his job now. Keeping them hidden. Youngin suspected that the four of them were perfectly capable of erasing themselves off the face of the Earth if they so chose. Nonetheless, orders were orders and who was he to question Taejoo?

Once they were all settled, he folded his hands on the table as they looked at him expectantly, “Three individuals from the police were approaching Choi Sangwon for a follow-up to his recent interrogation with regards to the kidnapping case, but when they arrived, the he had fled the scene.”

Yongseok considered the information before responding, “And this concerns us how?”

“You wanted to know about police movements. That’s the most significant event that’s happened recently,” he answered easily, “It also ties in nicely to the task you gave me.” Youngin was pleased when all four perked up at his last statement.

A beat of silence while Yongseok’s eyes searched him intently and the others exchanged furtive glances, “Did you manage to plant the evidence?”

He knit his eyebrows together, “Yes… but--”

“How?”

Youngin looked up to see the younger man, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised but with an otherwise unreadable expression. “The officers tried to chase down Sangwon and left the door open,” he shrugged, “I did plant it, I’m just not sure if the police will take it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Commissioner Lee is sure to be furious,” he chose his words carefully, “but to overturn the case so quickly would make them look bad… at the most, they might make something up about how Sangwon was involved.”

Yongseok shrugged and sat back in his chair, “So long as he’s in police custody, that’s all we need.”

“I can’t guarantee the length of his sentence though,” Youngin rubbed a hand over his mouth and chin and huffed a deep breath, “Or the conditions.”

“Conditions.”

That voice never failed to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“He’s asking--” Yongseok glanced at Zero, who was staring absently, harshly, at Youngin.

“Whatever it is,” he offered their speaker a pointed look before turning his attention to Zero, “They’ll make it really easy for him to get out.” Youngin could see all of their brows furrowing, hear the wheels turning in their skulls.

Yongseok appraised the young man in front of him in a new light and answered slowly, deliberately,  “We only need him out of the way for a short time.”

“Well,” he grinned, “That, I can get you.”

* * *

Commissioner Lee leaned towards the inmate on the other side of the reinforced glass partition, “Did you really think you would get away with it?” his voice was a menacing whisper. It had taken some string-pulling to make sure this conversation wouldn’t be recorded for documentation… or that he had come in to visit the prison in the first place… He continued, “You signed a _contract_ , Sangwon. There better not be anyone else who’s planning to pull a stunt like this.”

“Lee, what are you talking about?” the disheveled man held up his hands, chained together with steel cuffs, “I don’t even know why I’m in here. In fact, with the contract that I signed, I _shouldn’t_ be in here.” Sangwon dropped his hands back into his lap with a muffled clink, “So, you tell me.”

“That’s funny,” he sneered, “You don’t know? But you took so many pictures to make sure you remembered.”

Sangwon scowled and stared in silence for a moment, “Again, what are you talking about?”

Lee Sungjin sneered, “We found pictures in your apartment of her blindfolded, tied to a chair, all beaten and bloody. Figures that you’d keep her face intact.”

“Who found them?” Sangwon’s face had grown more and more genuinely concerned as the information came out until the expression he wore now was something between fear, confusion, and anger.

“It doesn’t matter,” he scoffed derisively, “Some trusted officers found them with your prints all over them.”

The inmate placed his hands on the counter and stood, leaning towards the glass, “Who. Found. Them,” he managed to grind out.

“We sent a cadet with another officer to check on you after interrogation,” Commissioner Lee remained nonplussed by the other’s reaction, “The door was open, no one was home and we found them in your room.”

“You can’t seriously be--” he moved away from the glass, threw his hands up, ran his fingers through his hair, paced the floor around the chair he had been sitting in, “You went in uninvited _and_ without a warrant? Damn it Sungjin, _someone else_ was looking for me. I got the tip and ran.”

Lee chuckled, crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, “Evading capture too, are we? You know, Hyunmi screamed at the sight of your face and was inconsolable for hours after that.”

If the conversation had been recorded, the exact moment that Sangwon snapped would have been audible. He barked out a harsh laugh and turned back to the glass, “Are you sure she wasn’t screaming at _yours_?”

His expression darkened instantly. “Don’t try me Sangwon. She’s _my_ daughter,” he growled.

“ _Your_ daughter,” he was cackling now, “That’s a joke, right? You come in here, accuse me of kidnapping and beating your daughter and say something like that?” Sangwon slammed his palms against the glass, glared down at the other man and snarled, “ _Everyone_ knows what kind of father you are, Lee. _Especially_ me.”

Now Commissioner Lee stood as well and dusted himself off, “You never got over that, did you? So now every time you see Hyunmi, you see _your_ daughter. That’s sick, Sangwon. That’s disgusting. You want to know what she said when she came out of hypnosis? Some good samaritans saved her from an evil man.”

Sangwon said nothing but continued to glare daggers through the reinforced glass.

“I know, I couldn’t believe it either,” he smirked and made to stroke his chin as though thinking, “But now that I think more and more about it the more I’m starting to think that ‘evil man’ is you.”


	11. Chapter 11

_ “We’ve got a nice room with your name on it. Aren’t you lucky? You get it all to yourself.” _

_ “But what did I do?” _

_ “Something pretty awful I bet.” _

_ “Welcome to solitary, pretty-boy.” _

_ “Wait, but--” _

* * *

_ “Man, it’s always the quiet ones who are the most fucked up in the head.” _

_ “I wouldn’t say always, but yeah that new guy, he hasn’t said a word since we brought him in last week.” _

_ “Seriously? Not a single word?” _

_ “Nothing. I’ve checked. He’s always just sitting on the bed, staring right at the door, rocking back and forth… sometimes he just walks around his cell.” _

_ “Jesus… I can see why they put him in solitary.” _

_ “No kidding. At night, he goes crazy. The rest of ‘em just scream. But him… God, I don’t even know.” _

* * *

_ “They transferred him out today.” _

_ “... to where?” _

_ “Maybe to your section, I’m not sure.” _

_ “WHAT.” _

_ “I saw the custodial staff go in and clean out the cell and… the walls, everything are covered with writing.” _

_ “Writing? How? They don’t get pens or anyth-- oh, shit…” _

_ “Yeah. They moved him out so he could get medical treatment.” _

* * *

_ The first time he woke up in his new cell, it was to pair of crazed eyes inches away from his face and a blood-curdling screaming splitting his eardrums. There was a burning, searing pain across his chest as though someone had taken long nails and raked them across his flesh hard enough to break skin. The pain spread. First it was his chest, then his shoulder, the back of his neck, across his stomach. Vaguely, he registered that there were strong arms picking him up, trying to lie him down, drag him away from the corner, pin his arms to his sides. The pain turned into a dull throb but the screaming continued. _

_ He wanted to tell whoever was screaming their head off to shut up. But he found his own throat not working. Why wasn’t it working? _

_ He tried to fight against the vice-like grip that was clawing into his skin, but it wouldn’t budge. The crazed eyes continued staring back at him. They seemed to be haloed by silver feathers, glowing, blazing. The dark, red-rimmed irises were shaking, vibrating, splitting into two, cracking apart like an egg. He felt light-headed, dizzy. Then, suddenly, the hold on him was gone and he collapsed. The last thing that registered in his mind was that the screaming had stopped. _

* * *

_ “Are you awake?” _

_ He opened his eyes wide and looked around, “Where am I?” He winced. His throat felt raw and tender, as though he had been coughing violently for hours straight. _

_ A chilling, low, velvety voice reached his ears, “June 7th.” _

_ “It’s June?” It seemed the condition of his voice wouldn’t allow for longer responses. He hoped his new cellmates would understand him. _

_ “He means cell no. 0607,” the rough voice from before seemed closer to him now. _

Oh… well, that made sense… kind of…  _ He rubbed at his eyes and stared at the two blurry figures in front of him. He squeezed his eyes shut again. _

_ “Man, Zero. And I thought  _ you _ were creepy.” _

_ “I’m not him.” _

_ So the owner of that ice dagger of a voice was named Zero? How… odd. But at the same time, he couldn’t place just why that was odd. In any case, it seemed that these two… cell-mates? It seemed that they were intent on speaking in riddles, “Does that mean I’m creepy or what?” _

_ “They brought you here in a strait jacket, yelling and laughing about how you were going to poke out everyone’s eyeballs and eat them.” _

_ “Oh.” _

* * *

_ “You passed out after a while and they came in to bandage you up,” he decided not to mention that he and Zero had pinned him down when he started tearing himself apart. Literally. Six Hundred watched the young man in front of him warily. This was the first time in two weeks that the tall man had even acknowledged that there were other people in the cell let alone speak with them. _

_ “Oh.” _

_ “And then there were three,” he sighed, “What’s your name? I’m Six Hundred, that’s Zero.” _

_ The young man blinked a few times and looked around, “I don’t know.” _

_ Six Hundred raised an eyebrow, “You don’t know, or you don’t remember?” _

_ “I don’t know,” he shook his head. _

_ “XI,” Zero’s dry rasp echoed in the small space. _

_ Six Hundred resisted the urge to shudder. Really, he ought to be used to this by now, “Where did you get that?” _

_ “Guards.” _

_ “Why XI?” _

_ “Psycho.” _

_ “Okay… but where did the ‘xi’ part come from?” _

_ “X-I. Eleven,” Zero stood from his cot and walked, no, stalked over to where XI had been sitting motionless and speechless, and stroked the numbers on his orange jumpsuit. _

_ 121111 _


End file.
